I.V.S. (Trip Report)

Have been diagnosed with Irritable Vowel Syndrome.

Charles Bukowski drawing

where he prophesied me in sketch.

He maybe had two cats

but I have two dogs.

He draws better than I do

but I say those little creatures

are dogs.

Right behind my house there’s a dog

Victor.  Looks just like that.

Tell me I’m wrong.

***

Anyway, I wake up:

might feel better if I was dead.

Looked so terribly bad,

zombie bad bad, so bad

my wife kissed my forehead

tears wet her eyes

and she said, scared and already lonely,

please, don’t leave me.

Hell, no, my love,

my sick head told my dry mouth to say,

I’m supposed to be in Daytona Beach

this afternoon.

Please excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.

***

And, of course, the undercronstructionalways

Interstate Fore!

and I have had explosive brown

don’t want to talk about it

Have to meet an old friend.

I promised.

Promised I’d be there.

We went.

Cazzie Topaz Malone has but a single travel rule

He tells me what time to be in the seat

and I’m ready to go wherever.

Excuse me, I have to go

to the bathroom.

***

Detoured on the way

for my family’s traditional cure,

a large chocolate milkshake.

Here I have to stop

my pride so great,

we managed to go out of our way

to witness the only McDonald’s

in the entire fuckin’ country

can’t make a goddamn large chocolate milkshake,

that’s some luck right there,

as My Dear Old Sainted Mother used to say.

Good chance to go to the bathroom.

***

We got there.

Ocean-front, king-size bed.

Refrigerator. Nice.

In a building bigger than

the town I grew up in.

Huge pools, a river adventure,

hot tub better than Hef’s.

I could live here, she said.

I went to the bathroom.

***

Worst weather ever.

Apparently, global climate change

is not all about warming.

A Florida surf town.  Wind-chill factor

thirty-five degrees.  Not a typo.

Freakinhairinheit.

Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.

Run, Forrest, Run!

***

Luckily, the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company

was exact right next door.

Stupid is as stupid does.

I recommend Lt. Dan’s Drunken Shrimp.

Tasty but noisy.  You know the type.

Oh, look, there’s a bathroom.

The only thing good about being shot

in the buttocks

is the ice cream.

That reminds me.

***

Too cold to go outdoors

so I went to the bathroom.

In the end,

no irony intended,

had a great time.

 

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